


Hot Yoga

by cakeisnotpie



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Quick drabble, Sweat, Yoga, to cheer up a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3863179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeisnotpie/pseuds/cakeisnotpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stretch felt good, no denying, but his tank stuck to his skin, wading up at his waist as the waistband of his shorts slipped down. Following instructions, he lifted his hands and rolled up, one vertebrae at a time, hands flowing overhead in time to his deep breaths. </p>
<p>One of my friends had a bad day and someone told her to think of the Avengers doing Hot Yoga to cheer up, so I wrote her this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Yoga

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustJill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJill/gifts).



Thing about sweat? Gravity worked on it just like everything else. Little droplets slid to the tips of his spiky hair, hovering on the end for three seconds … he counted just to be sure … before splattering to the sticky mat below. An annoying bead was slithering along his nose, leaving an itchy trail behind as it let go and fell to its demise. No, sweat and the downward dog pose were not made to go together. 

“Now bend your left leg and bring your foot forward. Place it between your hands. Exhale and hold.” 

Beside him, Bruce flowed into the lunge, muscles bunching across his back making little ridges for the sweat to collect and pool. Brown hair curled wildly in wet locks, his face flushed. Wearing just a pair of bike shorts, Bruce seemed unpreturbed by the heat; his thigh muscles flexed as he balanced. 

“Bring the other foot foward, keep your knees straight and hands on the floor. Breathe.” 

The stretch felt good, no denying, but his tank stuck to his skin, wading up at his waist as the waistband of his shorts slipped down. Following instructions, he lifted his hands and rolled up, one vertebrae at a time, hands flowing overhead in time to his deep breaths. 

“Okay, everyone heard those,” Tony groused, his spine popping as he extended his fingers towards the ceiling. Lean and tan, he’d stripped down to tight fitting yoga pants and positioned himself right in front of Steve. “I’m not that old.” 

“Shhhh,” Natasha warned from her mat at the front. Despite the glow on her skin, Natasha still moved like a dancer. “Now, flow into warrior one. Step your left foot back, heel to the floor, toes turned at a 45 degree angle. Lean your right knee over the foot and raise your arms, opening your rib cage.” 

Clint paused and tugged off his shirt, hurling it into a corner. Even his silky basketball shorts were clinging to all the wrong places, but he stepped back and lunged, taking in a full breath as another drop of sweat beaded on his upper lip. 

“Arms to your side and turn at the waist to warrior two. Sink into it and center yourself.” 

Golden skin glistened as Thor turned, his body like a map of sinew, each movement flexing a different set of muscles. Clint didn’t blame Jane for staring; Thor was a living example of perfection, blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, intense look of concentration in his blue eyes. 

“Reverse warrior. Let your left hand drift down and your right hand raise to the sky, opening your heart. Keep that lunge deep and don’t put your weight on your leg.” 

Sighting along the line of his arm, Clint saw every imperfection, the scars and bruises, the marks of old wounds across his biceps, the string burns on his forearm. Bending back as far as he could, he grounded himself with his thighs, squeezing his butt together to keep from falling over. 

“And now warrior three. Come back up with your arms then step your feet together. Lift your left leg and bend forward until both chest and left thigh are parallel to the floor. Hands forward. Remember to breathe.”

Steve wobbled, catching himself at the last minute by touching his fingers to the floor. He grinned sheepishly, stretching his arms out so his deltoid contracted and his shoulder blade flattened. The tendons that ran along his spine clenched as he sucked in his abs to balance. Even he’d shucked his shirt in the heat of the room and, damn it, yes Captain America looked good hot and sweaty. 

“Last pose of the sequence,” Natasha announced. “Bring your leg down slowly … slowly Darcy … and lift up. Step back into your lunge, clasp your hands behind your back and lift them up and over, bending down until your forehead touches the mat beside your foot.”

The mat squelched as Clint unglued his bare feet; he went further than his foot, curling his chest so his arms were parallel to the floor in front of him and his head facing his back foot. The pull across his biceps ran all the way down into his hand, the overused muscles finally giving and relaxing as he breathed. 

“Show off,” Phil murmured from behind him. Clint grinned; seeing Phil covered in sweat, balancing with tight muscles that showed in his shorts and tight black t-shirt was reward enough for toughing out hot yoga. Just for fun, Clint tightened his glutes and shifted his weight from one foot to the other; Phil’s eyes darkened and he wobbled in his stance. 

“Alright boys,” Natasha called, her eyes right on Clint. “Back up to mountain pose, slowly. Then let’s move to our knees to stretch out for a pigeon pose.”

A round of groans greeted that announcement; Clint grabbed a towel and swiped across his chest, making sure to turn sideways while he took a long drink of water. If he had to sweat and contort himself, driving Phil crazy at the same time was the least he could do.


End file.
